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Black rimmed ears tilted backwards as he heard the appearance of others—though much was muffled by the thick mist. Dark navy eyes turned away from the fog-shrouded waves when a question was aimed directly of him at his flank, from a familiar voice so familiar: “Have you heard…anything?” Dark eyes find Erthe’s mismatched ones, thick lips pressed in a disappointed and sad line as he slowly and gently shook his head in response to her painfully hopeful question. His muzzle reached out towards her as he saw her teeth worry her lip (—though he could not help his quick inhale for any scent of the weed’s sweet, milky sap that she was so dependent on—)…
But his attention swung away from Erthe as the King felt the swath of darkness begin to consolidate in the mist. “King,” his ears twitched at the Moon’s sensual purr—his home life had been…troubled as of late, and some needs had been left…unattended to. Lines creased the black edges of his dark navy eyes as his lips pressed in a slight line—irritation at himself for having wayward thoughts and not being wholly focused on the Goddess (—who, most assuredly, required his full attention—). His head dipped deeply in both deference and greeting as he internally wrestled.
However, his self-imposed ire melted away as a rueful, lopsided grin curved up his thick dark lips at her next, melodious purr: ”I'm beginning to think you like my company, Tembovu.” A short, low chuckle rumbled deep in his throat as he replied, “It would seem so, my Lady. And I would that is a good thing, else I am King of the wrong herd.” Briefly a fleeting thought dashed through his mind—the Moon Goddess had not appointed him…did she approve of his leadership? But the fleeting thought was just that: fleeting. Tembovu was not a man who needed affirmation or continual approval. If the Goddess did not care for his leadership (or Alysanne’s), then she would let her displeasure known.
So, instead, his consciousness claimed onto the reason for calling the Goddess from her celestial domain, “My goddess, the Falls has fallen, disbanded by the Earth,” he shifted his great bulk, gaze flicking from her endless silver wells to the soft lavender curves, know that he said nothing she did not already know, “And I—we—” his thick horn gestured towards all those Edgers that had gathered on the misted cliffs already, “—do not wish that fate for the Edge.”
He paused, dark cobalt gaze sweeping back to her enigmatically beautiful features, “Though you’ve not given us reason to worry or question your patronship, is there anything we may do to strengthen it?”
But his attention swung away from Erthe as the King felt the swath of darkness begin to consolidate in the mist. “King,” his ears twitched at the Moon’s sensual purr—his home life had been…troubled as of late, and some needs had been left…unattended to. Lines creased the black edges of his dark navy eyes as his lips pressed in a slight line—irritation at himself for having wayward thoughts and not being wholly focused on the Goddess (—who, most assuredly, required his full attention—). His head dipped deeply in both deference and greeting as he internally wrestled.
However, his self-imposed ire melted away as a rueful, lopsided grin curved up his thick dark lips at her next, melodious purr: ”I'm beginning to think you like my company, Tembovu.” A short, low chuckle rumbled deep in his throat as he replied, “It would seem so, my Lady. And I would that is a good thing, else I am King of the wrong herd.” Briefly a fleeting thought dashed through his mind—the Moon Goddess had not appointed him…did she approve of his leadership? But the fleeting thought was just that: fleeting. Tembovu was not a man who needed affirmation or continual approval. If the Goddess did not care for his leadership (or Alysanne’s), then she would let her displeasure known.
So, instead, his consciousness claimed onto the reason for calling the Goddess from her celestial domain, “My goddess, the Falls has fallen, disbanded by the Earth,” he shifted his great bulk, gaze flicking from her endless silver wells to the soft lavender curves, know that he said nothing she did not already know, “And I—we—” his thick horn gestured towards all those Edgers that had gathered on the misted cliffs already, “—do not wish that fate for the Edge.”
He paused, dark cobalt gaze sweeping back to her enigmatically beautiful features, “Though you’ve not given us reason to worry or question your patronship, is there anything we may do to strengthen it?”
the worlds edge
the elephant king
@Mythical Request
Please tag Tembovu.
